Disappearing Nine Patch (A Harriet Truman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 9) (28 page)

Harriet emerged and went over to where Lauren was now sitting on a big rock.

“Come on, give me the keys,” she said. “I’ll drive.”

“Jane, you’re just the person I wanted to see,” Harriet said as she took her place at the quilting frame.

The detective sat across from her. She stopped mid-stitch.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Carla and I went to see the psychic Molly had gone to right before she died. The one who she said triggered her memory.”

“Did Molly tell her what she remembered?”

“No, unfortunately. She had no idea what, if anything, had caused Molly to remember.”

“She was so young when whatever happened to her and Amber happened, I’d be surprised if she truly remembered it.”

“That’s sort of what the psychic said. She told us kids that age have trouble distinguishing fantasy from reality, and her perception of what Molly knew back then was heavily colored by fantasy.”

Harriet picked up her needle and made a few stitches.

“What the psychic did say was in regard to Amber. She had a feeling she had been underground.”

“That would make sense if she was buried.” Morse said.

“She said Amber thought she was underground and later thought she was in deep water. Anyway, we were brainstorming about what that might mean, and we thought maybe they’d been held in a cave.”

Harriet looked to Mavis.

“I called my son,” Mavis said, taking up the story. “He and his friends used to play in some caves off Hewitt Road. I called him, and he told me how to find them. I told Harriet and Lauren, and they just came back from exploring them.”

Lauren grimaced.

“Something I’m never doing again.”

Beth reached over and patted her hand.

Harriet sighed.

“Someone could have mentioned their claustrophobia before we left.”

“I didn’t think we were going to have to crawl on our bellies to get into it,” Lauren said.

Morse cleared her throat.

“Your question?”

“The bigger cave was hard to find. Someone had put some effort into concealing the opening behind fake bushes. As Lauren said, the opening was small and led into a larger chamber that had a locked trunk, a couple of cots and a lantern. As near as we could tell, someone had gone to some trouble cleaning the place up, too. It looked like the floor had been swept.”

Morse put her needle down and took a small notebook and a pen from her purse. She wrote a few notes and returned them to her bag.

“I’ll ask around and find out if anyone has permission to use the cave for some legitimate purpose. It’s possible Fish and Wildlife cleared some bats out or something. If not, I’ll see if I can send someone from the crime lab to check it out. It’s pretty thin, but frankly, we’ve got nothing else going on where Molly’s concerned.”

Lauren clipped the end of her thread and rubbed her finger over the spot where she’d buried her knot.

“Our only other thought about underground places was the bomb shelter idea. I’m not saying we’re buying into the whole psychic thing—at least, I’m not. But we’ve got nothing else, either. And we have to face DeAnn.”

Beth stabbed her needle into the quilt.

“Plus we don’t feel very safe the way things stand.”

Morse looked down at her work.

“I wish I could tell you we knew what was going on, but we don’t. We’ve been through all the evidence more than once. The chief is going to put out a Crimestoppers bulletin on Monday to see if we can get someone to call us with a tip.”

“Back to the bomb shelter idea,” Lauren said. “What if the underground place was a bomb shelter? Do the police have a record of bomb shelters in this area?”

Morse stopped stitching and thought for a moment.

“I don’t think we do, but the city might. I can ask. I don’t know if they had to have permits or be inspected.”

Mavis laughed.

“Good luck with that. Building permits are a fairly recent invention in Foggy Point.”

Morse made another note in her little pad.

“At least it’s something to do. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Anyone want to go get something to eat?” Mavis asked at seven o’clock that evening.

Harriet put her needle into the edge of the quilt.

“I’m with you.”

Mavis smiled.

“Thank you, sweetie, but I assumed since I drove us that
you
were with me.” She looked around the women seated at the frame. “Anyone else like to join us?”

Marjory stretched her back.

“Sounds good. I don’t feel like cooking, that’s for sure.”

Jenny took her cell phone from her purse and called home.

“Count me in. My husband is going to his friend’s house to help him set up a model train.”

One by one, the group parked their needles, picked up their bags and headed for the parking lot. Harriet’s phone buzzed as Mavis guided her car out of the parking lot. She read the message on the screen.

“James just texted to see if I want to go to dinner. Do you think anyone would mind if I invited him along?”

“I’m sure Jorge will be with your aunt. He’d probably appreciate another male being there, especially one who cooks.”

Harriet tapped a quick message into her phone and, a moment later, received a reply.

“He says he’ll meet us there.”

“So, what’s going on with you and James?”

“We’re…friends. Okay, I know everyone says that, but we’ve decided to spend some time together without any strings and with no pressure to be anything else for now. He’s busy with his restaurant, and I guess the people he’s dated lately want more than he can give. After this last year with Aiden, I’m not in a position to get involved with anyone else.

“So, James and I were talking the other night, and we acknowledged the fact that, while we’re not in a place to be in a committed relationship, we’d like to have someone to go to dinner with or watch a movie with. For me at least, that’s enough.”

“Tell yourselves whatever you need to for it to work, but I’ve got eyes, and you mark my words—that boy is falling for you.”

Connie and her husband Rod were sitting at a large table in Mama Theresa’s Pizza with Carla and Wendy when Mavis and Harriet arrived.

“How’s the quilting going?” Rod asked.

The women at the table looked at each other and laughed.

“Is that a good laugh or a bad laugh?” he asked.

Harriet sat down across from him.

“Hand-quilting is a daunting project under any circumstance, but in this case, the intended recipient first sort of forced us to make him a quilt; and now that Molly is dead, he’s trying to withdraw his donation and, therefore, his qualification as a quilt receiver.”

“At least it’s a pretty quilt,” Connie mused. “It could be worse. They might have let the donors pick their own fabric or pattern.”

“True,” Harriet agreed.

James came in and sat beside her.

“Have you ordered yet?”

“We just got here ourselves,” Mavis told him.

He set a piece of paper on the table in front of her and Harriet.

“Here’s something for you quilters to consider while we’re waiting for everyone to get here.”

Harriet took the paper and read out loud.

“‘Appliqué At Galveston Bay—A Retreat. June twenty to twenty-five.’”

“That’s not too far off,” Mavis said.

“I heard it wasn’t full up yet,” James said. “I’m going to a cooking class, and as part of the class, we’re presenting the banquet dinner at this event.”

Harriet looked at him.

“I thought you already knew how to cook.”

“You can never know enough about food. We covered Southern cooking in school, but this will be with working chefs and will focus on regional ingredients. I’m stoked. One of the days we cook alligator all day.”

Lauren slid her bag off her shoulder and settled into a chair across from Harriet.

“Sounds hideous. I only heard the tail end of that. Why are you cooking alligator all day?”

“I’m going to Galveston, Texas, to get up-close-and-personal with East Texas cuisine.”

Harriet slid the paper across to her.

“James is suggesting we go to an appliqué retreat that takes place at the same time as his class. His bunch is going to be serving the banquet dinner one night.”

“After all the work you’ve been doing on that donor quilt, I thought you all might want to get away for a while.”

Lauren read the details on the paper.

“It actually sounds kind of fun. My appliqué skills
could
use some help. It says here you get to choose two different classes.”

“Is it expensive?” Connie asked.

“Not really, considering it covers the hotel, the class, breakfast all week and the banquet.”

Lauren handed the paper to Connie. She read the flyer and handed it to Rod.

“Sounds okay to me,” Rod said. “If you want to go, I can hold down the fort here.”

Lauren consulted her calendar on her phone.

“I’m in.”

Beth rolled in on her knee scooter, followed by Jorge, and a brief pizza discussion resulted in James and Jorge going to the counter to place the group’s order. Harriet handed Beth the flyer about the retreat, and she read it and laid it back on the table.

“I think it would be a great get-away—for you. I’m going to be doing physical therapy for at least a month, according to my doctor. I think I need to stay here and concentrate on getting mobility back in my ankle. Before you ask, I’d be happy to take care of your pets while you’re gone.”

Harriet made eye contact.

“Are you sure?”

Beth nodded.

“Count me in, too, then.” Harriet said. “I’ll call them in the morning and see if they have room for us. If anyone else wants to go, let me know early. Has anyone here ever been to Galveston?”

It turned out everyone except her and Lauren had been there at least once, and the rest of the dinner was spent with each person in turn describing their memories of the place.

An hour later, Harriet crumpled her napkin and tossed it on the table.

“I can’t eat another bite.” She looked at Mavis. “What do you think? Should we head out?”

“We all need to rest,” Beth said. “We need to bear down if we’re going to get that quilt finished and bound by Saturday.”

The next few days passed in a blur of hand-quilting, meals out and precious little sleep, but by Friday, the end was in sight. Harriet finished the last small square of her last “daughter block“ of the disappearing nine-patch in front of her. She sat back to admire her work.

“Done with my last one,” she announced.

Aunt Beth stabbed her needle into the block in front of her.

“I’ve got a few more stitches to go, and then I’m done, too.”

Connie and Carla were working at a card table they’d set up to hold Connie’s small portable sewing machine and a square ironing pad and an iron. They had cut the quilt binding in the morning and were in the process of sewing the segments together and pressing them.

“We’re almost done with the binding,” Connie told them. “Carla is going to roll it onto an empty tissue roll so it will stay nice until we’re ready to start sewing it on. I was thinking I’d move my machine to one of the big lunchroom tables to do that part so the quilt won’t touch the floor while I’m working on it.”

“Sounds good,” Beth said. She looked over at Harriet and Lauren. “You girls can take a break, if you want. Mavis and I can finish up the quilting and clip any loose threads, and then there’s nothing else to do until Connie gets the binding on.”

Mavis stood up and moved around the quilt frame to another spot where a square waited to be finished.

“We’ll probably get a bite to eat after we finish this part,” she said. “Then, if everyone comes back around two, we can lay the quilt on one of those big tables, and each of us can take a section to bind. It’ll take no time at all with all of us working.”

Lauren stood up, stretching her arms in the air before she stepped away from the quilt.

“You don’t have to ask me twice. I’m out of here.” She looked at Harriet. “Want to go get a rice bowl?”

“I do, but I want to stop by the Carey Bates Center on our way.”

“What for?”

“I had an idea—”

“Always a scary thought,” Lauren interrupted.

Harriet glared at her, but continued.

“As I said, I had an idea while we were sitting here stitching. Bear with me, ’cause it’s a little out there.

“First, we know Molly was found both times in Fogg Park. Martha Gray sensed she was underground, and that she thought the space was metal.”

“Go on.”

“What if she crawled into a vent?”

“What would it be venting?”

“Maybe a bomb shelter, or maybe Carla’s box in the ground. But I was thinking. What if the vent came out in Fogg Park.”

“Fogg Park is a big place.”

“We could look where they found Molly the first time.”

“Where does the Carey Bates Center come into it?”

“When Molly was first asking for help, I think she mentioned them having a metal detector.”

“Are we looking for a vent pipe? Don’t you think a vent big enough for a five-year-old to crawl into of would be easy to spot?”